


Pillow Talk #IneffableValentines2020 prompt 17

by GayDemonicDisaster (scrapheapchallenge)



Series: Ineffable Valentines 2020 [17]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: #ineffableValentines2020, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Clusterfuck, Comedy of Errors, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley's Bentley (Good Omens), M/M, Valentines, fucktangular, ineffable valentines, wank, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22501372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrapheapchallenge/pseuds/GayDemonicDisaster
Summary: Whist being a valentine’s prompt short fic, this may also be considered an unofficial, much demanded chapter 3 of“Not on the plants, dear, we’re British”– aNSFWcomedy fic. It didn’t have quite as much comedic value as I wanted for a real chapter 3, but it was pillow talk so I decided rather than binning it, to put it here instead. For context read the comedy fic first.Awkward demons aren’t the only people with embarrassing secret wank stories. A certain principality has some skeletons in his own closet…
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Valentines 2020 [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618783
Comments: 28
Kudos: 121
Collections: Crack Fic Comedy Porn, Ineffable Valentines 2020





	Pillow Talk #IneffableValentines2020 prompt 17

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miele_Petite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miele_Petite/gifts).



Crowley lay wrapped around Aziraphale’s warm body, mind utterly blown and yet strangely content.

Wow.

The preceding couple of hours, hell the preceding _week_ had been one hell of a rollercoaster ride, but somehow it had worked out in his favour. He smiled to himself and nuzzled into Aziraphale’s neck contentedly. The unexpected sex had devolved into soft affirmations of love attained after 6,000 years of pining, and had slowly edged into them wrapped in each other’s arms as dawn broke.

It still didn’t stop Crowley cringing at the events that had led up to getting him into this situation though. Hell, he hoped Aziraphale never asked for an explanation of what his thought process had been leading up to that event, because he wasn’t sure he even HAD a thought process. It just kind of … happened.

Unfortunately for Crowley, Aziraphale was nothing if not curious, and that very question had been burning a hole in his mind for the past few hours as they had laid there recovering from their exertions. Aziraphale sighed and kissed Crowley’s hair softly.

“Crowley, dear..?” He began.

“Mmmm?” came the sleepy reply.

“I was wondering something…” Aziraphale felt the demon’s muscles tense as those words escaped his lips. He hesitated, but then pushed ahead regardless. “… Why on the plants, dear?” He looked down to see Crowley’s face wrestling with a variety of strangled expressions in rapid succession as he literally squirmed in the angel’s arms with embarrassment.

“Uh… It’s, um, a little complicated, please don’t make me explain, Angel. I really don’t know if I can.”

“Are you attracted to your plants? Is it some kind of … kink, perhaps?” Aziraphale pressed.

Crowley cringed. “Ngh. Uh, no? I don’t think so? Maybe? I don’t _know_ , Angel.” He whined.

Aziraphale considered this for a moment. “Some sort of domination thing, then?”

Crowley hid his face in the angel’s chest and groaned in embarrassment. He felt more kisses being softly planted on his head and a soothing hand stroke his back.

“You’re not the only one, you know” Aziraphale whispered gently. Crowley’s head shot up in surprise and puzzlement.

“Wha…?”

Aziraphale looked slightly abashed. “If it’s any consolation, I’ve had my share of embarrassing moments as well.”

Crowley looked incredulous. “What? Used the wrong fork at a fancy dinner? Forgot to RSVP? Incorrect grammar? Addressed the Earl of somewhere or other before the second cousin of the Queen? Passed the port to the right?”

Aziraphale swatted at him playfully. “Don’t be so _silly_ , you absolute _menace_ ” he chided gently. “If I tell you my embarrassing story, you tell me yours, at least what led up to the bit where I walked in on you anyway. Deal?”

Crowley studied him suspiciously, then stared at the offered hand. He shook it, reluctantly. “This had better not be something like you putting the milk in the cup before the tea, or putting your elbows on the table, Angel.”

Aziraphale composed himself with a sigh. “Do you recall the day we went to Royal Ascot that summer? You had some dastardly demonic shenanigans you needed to get up to there, something about making sure a jockey took a bribe or some such to throw a race? You invited me along.”

Crowley thought for a moment, cringed, then nodded. “Yeah, I remember.” It had been a pretty hot day and things didn’t go exactly to plan. It was spectacularly fucktangular if he was honest. 

He’d told Aziraphale he’d only be about half an hour and then had been held up for closer to 4 hours trying to untangle a complicated situation involving the horse’s owner, the trainer, the jockey, the owner’s wife and the trainer, the trainer’s son and the jockey’s girlfriend in some bizarre complicated love quadrangle that made what should have been a basic temptation to throw a race into a ridiculous farce that would make perfect material for a dinner theatre production. Not to mention the jockey being singularly drunk to boot. An added complication was the local mobster who also had a vested interest in things.

“Well,” Aziraphale continued. “You recall I was waiting in the car for you. You’d left your jacket behind because you were so hot. It was just me, your jacket, and the Bentley. I know I don’t often bother with sleep, but it had been a long day, and I’d been so busy myself travelling the length and breadth of the country that week being run ragged by Gabriel with blessings and miracles all over the place. So when you didn’t return after a while I thought I might take a little nap on the back seat. So I took the liberty of borrowing your jacket to fold up as a pillow to make things more comfortable.”

Crowley’s eyebrows knitted in confusion at where this might be going. “Go on…” he murmured.

Aziraphale wriggled slightly and settled again. “Well you see, your jacket smelled so very much of _you_ , and I did rather nuzzle into it, the scent just sort of… relaxed me, took my mind off things.” He paused and met Crowley’s incredulous gaze for a moment, then blushed and looked away again.

“I couldn’t quite bring myself to nap after that you see. Because my mind was just whirling, and thinking about that jacket being wrapped around you, and before I knew it, things were getting rather… _insistent_ down below, if you catch my drift.”

Crowley raised a sarcastic eyebrow. “You got a hard-on from my jacket?” He smirked, secretly pleased.

Aziraphale nodded, tight lipped. “And it rather needed taking care of. So I sort of… attended to things.” He bit his lip and avoided Crowley’s gaze.

“You had a wank? In _my_ car?” Aziraphale nodded stiffly. “Well that makes two of us I suppose, but it’s hardly the crime of the century, Angel.” Crowley replied. Aziraphale shook his head and carried on.

“The problem was the policeman.”

“Policeman?”

Aziraphale nodded again. “They have mounted police at the races, and one of them was riding through the car park taking his horse back for a break when he went past the Bentley and noticed me, in the middle of things, as it were.”

Crowley put his hand over his eyes. “I don’t recall you getting arrested for public indecency that day, Angel, I’m sure I’d have remembered something like that, even despite all the chaos that was happening on my end of things.”

Aziraphale sucked air through his teeth and braced himself to continue. “Well he knocked on the window, which rather startled me, then he dismounted and opened the door to remonstrate with me over aforementioned public indecency. So I panicked. I might have miracled the horse to bolt…”

Crowley’s eyes shot open wide and his hand dropped from his eyes. “You….!” He stared at Aziraphale in shock, cogs turning in his head.

The angel was blushing and nodded again. “It seemed to distract the policeman enough, but the horse took off back toward the track, to the other horses, it spooked the favourite in the collecting ring, which ran into one of the others…”

Here Crowley interjected with a knowing groan. “Into ‘Meddlesome Maid’, I know…” He knew the story from here, as he’d been in the centre of it. The filly had also bolted, straight at Crowley. He’d seen it bearing down on him and hissed in alarm, which had spooked the horse into a last second high speed diversion to avoid the demon, instead knocking the Lord Mayor’s wife into a muddy puddle, she’d grabbed at a countess’s skirts as she fell and managed nothing more than to pull the poor woman’s skirt off to the ground, revealing a distinct lack of underwear.

From there, the Earl’s grandfather had taken one look and had a heart attack. The three spooked horses were now galloping laps of the collecting ring together, setting off the rest as they went. Jockeys were falling left, right and centre. When ‘Lonely Windlesham’ spooked and dumped her jockey, who fell on the trainer’s son who had been leading the horse before it went berserk, the jockey’s girlfriend had gone to attend to the trainer’s son before her boyfriend, and it all went downhill from there.

Crowley, in the meantime, had been trying to smooth over marital matters with the horse’s owner and his wife, who not half an hour earlier, had been found in flagrante with the trainer behind the weighing-in room. While a mob boss was hunting around for Crowley to demand to know why he hadn’t got the jockey to take the bribe yet.

“So all that was your angelic fault?”

Aziraphale nodded, meekly.

Crowley sighed. “Do you have any idea how much crap I got for what happened that day, Angel?” Hell assumed it was all my fault, not the result of several sex crazed humans, and one horny angel pining over the smell of my bloody jacket, in _my_ car.”

“Sorry” Aziraphale said meekly. “Perhaps I can make it up to you?”

Crowley snorted. “Damn right you can, Angel.” He ground his hips against Aziraphale’s side suggestively. “And I think you can start right now…”

Aziraphale giggled and snuggled closer.


End file.
